


Watch me make 'em bow one by one by

by DrJackAndMissJo



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Azriel is adorable, F/M, Feyre is a bad ass powerful queen, Not really graphic, Rhys is so fucking proud, but still violence, cause Keir is the worst, i don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 06:05:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18190733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJackAndMissJo/pseuds/DrJackAndMissJo
Summary: Feyre's first time in the Hewn City Rhys-lessinspired by 'you should see me in a crown' by Billie Eilish





	Watch me make 'em bow one by one by

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I do not own shit  
> this has not been betad whatsoever  
> Enjoy

 

“You don't have to go in alone.” Mor said with a grave tone. Her friend was willing to go straight into the worst place in the universe for her, in case she didn't feel comfortable.

Feyre’s heart constricted at the idea of putting the blonde in that position, even Rhys tried to limit her time under the House of Mist.

“I'm not going there alone. Do you think any of those Illyrians are letting me out of their sight unsupervised? I could try to tell Az to stay here and take you with me, but we both know he wouldn't stay put.” she laughed, fretting nonchalance although her heart was already racing and her hands were clammy, toying with her bracelets and rings to keep from shaking. Mor noticed, of course, as did the warrior behind her.

A year had passed since they defeated Hybern. A wonderful year of going to court meetings and patching years of damaged history and rewiring the mental links that kept people believing that the Night Court, _her_ court, was wicked and cruel and violent and ruthless. Feyre worked hard, studied harder, to make sure they made their world a better place. As did Rhys and everyone of her new family. Her sisters were still adjusting, Elain better than Nesta, but slowly and neither wanted anything to do with official business. She was secretly glad about it, since it meant less conflict with her eldest sister who had an opinion, sometimes wrong or simply bad, about everything, and less pressure on the other, who was still learning how to handle her new powers.

Although maybe with Nesta by her side, Feyre would've been less nervous about the meeting.

Feeling a stroke of concern through the mental bond she had with her mate, she replied back with a calming and encouraging one.

Taking in a deep breath of the cold air, she looked up at her friend, :“Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. If something goes wrong I'll simply destroy everyone in that throne room.” she said, a wicked smile appearing on her painted lips.

Her whole outfit was picked for the sole purpose of flaunting her position as High Lady: a tight black bodice, sleeveless to reveal her tattoos that expressed her power over the court and completely backless, to remind everyone of her alliance with the monster Bryaxis; several layers of ruffled silk, rigorously black, that made her look like she was a walking storm cloud, ready to unleash rain and lighting, which she could do easily; a diadem made of onyx and silver, crowning her as High Lady, matching with a ring that signaled her imminent wedding with the most powerful of High Lords. Her eyes were lined with black kohl and lips stained blood red. She had hidden her wings, choosing instead to use Spring's powers to elongate her canines, giving her an extra cruel look. Even if he was useless as a ruined rag full of holes, she had to admit that Tamlin’s powers were quite helpful in more ways than one.

She looked powerful, felt nervous and was ready to kill. _‘Just a regular Friday, then.’_ said her mate through the bond.

Mor still didn't look convinced, but patience was not amongst Feyre's virtues, so she simply waved at the other female, before turning to Azriel, who was dutifully ready. His bright blue siphons contrasted his dark clothing and his shadows circled around his body, whispering to him and following his command. He shoot them out before silently winnow away, to announce her surprise visit.

No one in the Court of Nightmares knew of this impromptu meeting, especially Mor’s father, Keir, who recently was causing some commotion. Voices travelled fast to the spymaster’s ears and were immediately reported. Rhys, who was in Winter to fix the dent in his and Kallias’ relationship, asked her if she was ready to terrorise them herself, and Feyre was rather glad of the opportunity to prove herself.

When one of Azriel’s shadows came back, she simply turned once more to her friend.

“Good luck. Don't kill them all in one sitting.”

Laughing, Feyre took off winnowing to her other formal residence.

@@@

The first thing she noticed, as always, was the cold wind. She could feel the mountain below, the life and depraved actions of the many vile creatures that inhabited the lower levels. She had appeared on the upper levels, on the mansion atop of the mountain, where she once had to stay once a month for a short period of time.

Slowly, she let a little of her powers run free, reach far into the core of the mountain. She made in tremble with a single thought and felt the panic rise fast in the minds of the Fae below her. Long gone were the days when she was the one afraid of them, a different life far away from the reality she now lived in.

A shadow patiently waited for her, leading her way as guards with stiff spines tensed and bowed at her as she walked past them, not giving a single glance to any.

When she reached the massive and heavy doors, she viciously smirked at the two other guards, that quickly opened them for her, pungent fear drenching their scents. Her Shadowsinger appeared behind her, manifesting easily out of his shadows with an unreadable expression on his stoic face.

‘ _Everything okay?’_ he mentally asked her through the small opening she had left for him, knowing neither him nor Rhys would've let her go to the Hewn City without an emergency hidden signal for Az to read immediately.

Imperceptibly nodding, she sighed deeply before loudly complaining languidly to none in particular, :“It is rather humid in here.”. With a wicked grin, she used her Day wind, eliciting terrified screams and making cups and papers and skirts fly in a turbulent haze.

Genuinely smiling at the havoc she wrecked, the High Lady of the Night Court began to slowly walk towards the two equal thrones at the end of the room, deliberately taking her time and looking at everything and everyone. The high Faes parted on her wake and bowed deeply, averting her piercing gaze. She could easily feel their thoughts, scared and confused and silently begging the Cauldron for mercy.

 _‘Good.’_ she simply thought.

A proud wave washed over the bond, encouraging her to keep going.

When she reached the dais off the two thrones, she casually glanced back: the inhabitants of that corrupted court were still bowing, some kneeled to the ground, all with low eyes staring at the ground. Azriel was still behind her, advert to any possible danger but looking extremely bored. She immediately spotted Keir, who was bowed next to the thrones but openly staring at her, challenging her.

Feyre had came plenty of times there with Rhys, to torment and rule beside him. But this was her first time alone, the most important of those visits. And Keir was trying to get on her nerves, to make her lose focus and slip.

‘ _He is an utter fool.’_ she thought, sharing the message with the shadow singer, the corners of whose mouth tugged slightly upwards.

‘ _Show time, Feyre.’_

Facing again in front of her and walking up the steps to her thrones, she called back :“Why don't you make _yourself_ useful, dear Keir, and bring us something to drink.”, stressing her way of addressing him, the importance of the explicit delivery of the action clear.

She knew he had bolted upwards, offended by her words and speechless to reply, before she had even turned to the room. Indeed he was staring at her, pure hatred in his eyes as they burned with rage. She simply smiled sweetly baring her fangs at him, waiting for his move.

He had three possibilities, three paths laying ahead of him: retort back, commenting how he was not a squire rather rudely, and thus disobeying to a specific order from his High Lady; sending another to attend the task and, again, not completing fully her command; doing as she had politely asked, without commenting. He looked more inclined for the first choice, but he managed to regain composure, apparently remembering that she still had not dismissed them from their slouched positions and bowed once more, falsely and deep to the waist. His scent full of hatred.

 _‘Poor fool, he believes he's running the show!’_ she thought to herself.

“Today, Keir. Unless you have something to object.” was all the attention she gave to the older male, before casting a broad glaze at the crowd beneath her. She was torn between leaving them like that for her entire stay, conscious that only few would dare defy her and ready to strike them down. Instead she simply said “Carry on with your usual stuff”, adding a dismissal wave of her hand that they might’ve missed and they quickly reverted back to their activities, the majority of their scents dripping fear.

She noticed some musical instruments on one corner of the room, undoubtedly the most acoustic place that guaranteed the sounds to be carried to all the four corners, behind stone pillars and to the walls. “Someone play.” she ordered and immediately a few inhabitants of the court of Nightmares began to stroke the cords of the harp and the piano, creating a smoothing melody that reverberated throughout the spacious area.

Pleased, she moved from her poised sitting position, sprawling on the chair like a cat on a couch, and began to stare at her black coated nails, the perfect picture of boredom.

Not even a minute had passed that she turned to her spymaster, who was casually leaning against one of the pillars of the ceiling, another picture of complete annoyance, were not for his hyper vigilant eyes. “If he's not here in a moment, break his fingers.” she said, loudly enough to be heard by all and elicit terrified gasps from the court.

The Illyrian warrior simply shrugged.

Unfortunately for them, Keir appeared to the dais off the thrones in that same instant, eyes wide at the treat. “Shame” she said, again loud enough to be heard and let him approach. She took the cup of wine he was handing her as Azriel moved up the stairs to collect his.

Keir grew bolder, “What do we owe this unexpected visit, Milady?” he asked. His tone was not openly hostile, but masqueraded poorly his blatant disdain towards her.

Ignoring him completely, she swirled her glass, focusing her interests to its red content. “Should I have it checked for poison, Steward?”

Keir nodded furiously, “Of course not, Milady. I would never hurt you.” he said, although his eyes told another tale.

Azriel moved back to the bottom of the stairs, viciously eyeing Keir and silently ordering him to do the same, but the male stood still, stiff as a wooden board.

“Milady.” he pressed her again. She merely waved her hand, sending wind towards his direction and making him tumble off the stairs, his fall ending with a loud thud. Everyone in the roomed abruptly stopped, waiting for what was to come next.

“Cheers” she said pointing her glass towards Azriel before sipping the dark beverage.

Turning towards the steward of the Hewn City, she eyed him rather violently, letting her rage show through them in the way Nesta had taught her. When it came to glaring, her sister was a professional.

After having taken another sip, she began to speak, :“We heard some interesting stories lately. I thought it might be something to report back to you, Keir, considering you are in all of them.”

She sent down the bond the image of the male below her, of how he immediately paled, of how his eyes widened almost comically and of how his hands began to shake. A wicked enjoyment ran through her and she could've swore Azriel felt the same.

“I... Milady, I have no idea…” he began to say, but she simply silenced him with her Daemati powers. His hands flew immediately at his neck, as if to protect it from her magic.

“I don't remember giving you permission to talk,” she told him, leaning forward and showing her teeth, “and I don't think you were allowed to stand up.” she continued viciously. Immediately Azriel was behind him, fast as lighting, forcing the older Fae to his knees. He fell down hard, a loud noise of bone breaking echoing in the room.

 _“Cassian has to pay up.”_ her mate said through their bond. She sent a wave of confusion back and then came the explanation: _“We bet on who would break the first bone._ ”, he said smugly. _“Illyrians.”_ she simply replied, before shutting him up and moving back to the scene in front of her.

She leaned back on the throne once more, resuming her drinking with a grin plastered on her blood red lips.

“As I was saying, before being such rudely interrupted,”, a harsh look thrown at her and a smirk shot back, lifting her spell, “we wanted you to confirm those stories. Apparently you're not happy with our arrangement?” she asked lifting her free hand, the one with the tattoo that declared her High Lady of the Night Court, and letting it rest dramatically on her chest, above her heart, her face a mark of mocked hurt and confusion.

When Keir didn't reply, she simply reminded him that she had asked a question, although his silence could be taken as an affirmation. “It is also not polite to avoid answering. What are you so afraid of, dear Keir?” her voice saccharine and lethal at the same time.

 Slightly panicking now, he began to explain that the situation was different and making up excuse left and right, but Feyre simply raised her hand to shut him up, “It's a ‘ _yes_ ’ or ‘ _no_ ’ kind of question, Keir. Don't waste your breaths, Cauldron knows how many more you have left in you!” her veiled treat hitting him in full force.

He shut his mouth immediately, nostrils flaring as he slowly nodded.

Sighing loudly and dramatically swinging an arm over her eyes, she continued, “That’s what I thought you'd say, you dumb fucking horse!”

She could feel Azriel’s amusement and a smile appeared on her lips on its own accord, in her mind almost ruining her facade but probably strengthening her character.

“And tell me, dear Keir, why is that?”

“I do not think...” he began but she interrupted him abruptly, the occasion too good not to be taken, “Yes, we’ve established that quite a number of times now, go on.”. He gave her his own version of _‘if looks could kill’_ , but quite frankly it looked and felt mostly like he was holding back tears.

With a sudden wave of newfound courage, he straightened his spine and proclaimed loudly:“Me and my Darkbringers should be allowed more frequently into Velaris.”

“Mmmh...”, another sip of wine, “And why is that? Don’t you have the sun and the night sky here as well? You simply have to crawl your way like the worm you are, Keir, to find them waiting for you.”

The Steward froze in place, shame colouring his features as he passed such a great number of shades of pink and red. She took the time to scout the room with her eyes.

She knew that everyone was staring at them, concern written on some faces, pure terror on others. A few held disgust, whether towards her of the poor excuse of a male in front of her she couldn’t tell.

“Do you agree with him?” she asked to the crowd. Murmurs began to fill the room, male soldiers nodding eagerly as the females remained more distant to the topic, dutiful as always. Submissive as always.

That was what truly irritated her of this place, more than the depravity and corruption. The state of borderline slavery the females of this Hellhole were subjected to. The Illyrians were slowly getting around to it, incorporating them into training activities and letting them have more and more control over their own lives, partially because, if the camp lords didn’t behave, her oldest sister would wipe them off the spot completely.

But they weren’t. They kept on mistreating them and using them and it made her stomach turn. To allow them more time in Velaris...

Suddenly, a plan began creating itself in her mind. Curiosity brushed her mental walls, and she let her mate in, cautious and asking for permission.

 _‘You’re the High Lady, Feyre Darling,’_ he purred into her mind, ‘ _you don’t ask permission to anybody. By all means, do as you please. I will be here, sulking over how I hadn’t thought of this before.”_

 She couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his answer, scaring even more the already trembling high Faes in front of her.

“Of course you do!” she said, both to the crowd and her mate. Azriel lifted a brow in her direction, a silent question, and she merely sent him the full image of her plan. He nodded once, the corners of his mouth lifting just barely. That was all she needed, before she shot another fiery question to the Faes below her, “Have you brought your females so far?”

Puzzled look replaced the optimistic ones that her previous question had created, and no one dared speaking, not even a murmur this time.

“C’mon” she nuzzled them, encouraging them to reveal themselves as monsters and to give her all the leverage she needed, “I promise I won’t bite.” she said, while barring her teeth and making sure the light reflected from her shiny fangs, sharp enough to easily bite pieces of muscle.

“If nobody answers, then I must assume that the females of this Court have never seen Velaris.” she said while reclining back on her throne, before burying her gaze onto the closest Fae. The young male paled immediately and bowed deeply as she motioned for him to fill her cup once more. “Tell me, how many times have the Darkbringers been to my city?” her voice sounded bored, nonchalant and even, although rage was boiling inside of her veins at her pre-existent knowledge of the answer. Those three days had been the hardest since the war, for her family and the whole city. “Three, milady.” he said quickly, trying to hide poorly the shakiness of his voice as he filled her cup.

“And they have never brought a single female with them?”, again, she knew the answer, but all this was to fortify her show.

The poor Fae simply nodded, before he was dismissed from his positioning and all but sprinted down the obsidian dais, pure primal fear drenching his scent.

Taking a sip of her wine, she turned once again towards Keir, who was still kneeling on the hard ground with Azriel behind him. She smiled at the scene. “I don’t think those were the accords, dear Keir. What did we agree on, Azriel?” she asked to the shadowsinger, who regarded her with something akin pride in his eyes.

“That anyone who wishes to leave the Hewn City for a chosen day, every trimester, can do so freely, except for the Steward, who has to remain to protect the Court.” He finished, the edge on his voice so sharp it could slash a throat in one effortless motion.

“Indeed.” she put down her cup, clasping both hands on her lap, “So, first of all, you knew the amount of time you were given. Quite frankly, if you had something to say, you should’ve done so back then, when we were still negotiating.” She couldn’t help feel like a teacher scolding a small child, stubborn and that still hadn’t fully learnt the meaning of a negotiation.  
“Me and your High Lord, along with Morrigan, Commander Cassian and Amren, settled down with an agreement with you several months ago, when our duties allowed us to make time for such an important decision.”

Truth to be told, they delayed the meeting for as long as possible, but Keir and his army were growing impatient. Mor suggested one visit a year, not on holidays or festivities, but realistically it was too little: they had indeed held on their end of the bargain by fighting alongside the Illyrians and the other courts in the war against Hybern. Surprisingly enough, it was Cassian who had the most brilliant idea: four times a year, once every three months and Keir only once a year, to ‘ _keep the fort protected_ ’ he had said with a wicked smile on his lips. Keir had complained and proposed once a month, but Rhys was adamant; two days after the meeting, the Hewn City sent a letter, agreeing to their conditions, and the deed was done.

“With all due respect, Milady, we were not given much choice.” said the Steward in a pleading tone. His leg must’ve been sore and hurting like crazy, but she still wouldn’t let him up, not yet anyway.

Smiling viciously at him, she replied :“Would you rather we retort back to our original idea? Once a year?”. The crowd murmured and nodded their dissent eagerly. “Of course not, Milady. Yours was a generous offer...”

“I was not finished.” she cut him off abruptly, sending cold air in his direction to increase his discomfort, avoiding purposely the spymaster. “Or we could simply terminate the contract right now, since one side isn’t fond of its reward. After all, even with all your help, it was mostly the Illyrian cavalry that helped us win the war before it reached land.” She spoke freely, choosing her words to hurt them most, in their pride. She continued sweetly :“After all, we never specified how long this agreement stood for.”

Delight in the baffled looks that were thrown at her by stunned creatures, she leaned back on her throne and held the cup once more in the clutches, drinking the dark liquid while scanning the room with a predatory gaze.

Keir cleared his throat, once, before whispering :“We do not wish to revise the bargain.” A little was better than nothing, after all.

She had heard him easily, as had every Fae in the room, but she still nudged him to speak a little louder, blaming her former human ears. She knew it drove him mad, truly, knowing that the High Lord of the Night Court had chosen a born human, made High Fae female as his bride, instead of one of the girls that was conceived and raised in that Cauldron Forgotten place with the sole purpose of marrying high up on the social system and play Lady of the House, as Tamlin had once tried to reduce her. It also enraged him to no end knowing that she was his High Lady, meaning that she had full control on him and the Court he supervised.

 _‘Not bad for a once lowly human, uh?’_ her mate asked down the bond. _‘At least he is smart enough not to complain about it much. It would be a burden to train another puppy like you did him.’_ came her reply, which was met by a dark chuckle and a soft whisper of love.

After having repeated his statement, much louder than he was comfortable, admitting his defeat, Keir relaxed momentarily, believing that the worst was over. But he was wrong: he was in the eye of the hurricane, the calm before the actual storm.

“Now that one issue is over, let’s go back a little, shall we?”. _‘Poor Keir_ ’ she thought to Azriel, _‘He has probably never been through so many emotions in one sitting’_.

The spymaster grinned at her and shook his head a little, his amusement filling her mind.

 _‘I don’t like that you have another male’s thoughts into your head.’_ her mate told her, ‘ _Territorial Fae Prick.’_ came her reply.

_‘You wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.’_

“You said it before, that your females weren’t with you during those visits. Am I wrong?” she asked, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“No, Milady.” The older Fae cowered, bowing his head trying to his the tremor of his limbs.

“And didn’t we agree on sending whoever wanted to be in Velaris, without restraints?”

“Yes, Milady.”

“So, what’s up with that? Why didn’t you girls come?” she asked the whole room, now, moving her eyes to the females in question.

“They choose not to, mil...” tried to answer for them Keir.

She blocked his mouth from moving, open on one of the vowels of the title, “I wasn’t referring to you, Keir. Keep that tongue in place or I’ll remove it.” He knew her treats were not empty, so he stopped immediately, fear in his eyes.

Her gaze landed on a female in the middle of the room, busy looking at the ground with a pincher in hand. Probably for the husband she was forced to marry.

She beckoned her to move closer and answer her question; after a moment of uncertainty and a glare from the male next to her, she did. “We all choose not to, milady.” she said while doing an exemplar curtsy.

She felt for her, sorrow and pain at her situation, one the now powerful High Lady could’ve easily been trapped in, were not for her dark prince, coming to the rescue. But, although her emotions were rather soft for this female, her stern mask didn’t come off. “Don’t lie to me. We don’t like liars. Tell her, Keir” and with a soft twirl of her fingers she made the male crumble down on the cold stone, holding his injured leg close to his chest.

The poor female jumped back scared, but stood her position.

“Why don’t you try again. This time, I want the full truth.”

Nodding, she replied, her voice thick with emotion :“We wanted to, but our duties and our families suggested we stayed behind.”

Her face softened and smile became welcoming as she thanked the female. _‘Make sure no harm is done to her for her words._ ’ she told Azriel, who dissolved in his shadows to follow her order.

“Well, then.” She stood up from her throne, “I will settle this once and for all. No one of you gets more trips to Velaris, the ones already agreed upon are sufficient and enough.”

The room collectively breathed in relief, sighing at the somewhat positive news.

“But...” her smile turned wicked once more and it almost felt like her Winter ice had frozen the crowd, “if I find out that you’re refusing your females from participating to those visits...” her icy glare ran over the shocked faces of the Faes below her, “you will all see our warm invite denied. For eternity.”

And with that, she disappeared into darkness, the room exploding in outraged and scared cries as she winnowed upstairs, on her and her mate’s other residence. Memories of a different lifetime washed over her as she patiently waited for her spymaster to reach her in the designated meeting point, from where they would’ve flown back to Velaris.

A soft stroke of love and pride washed over her. _‘You are amazing._ ’

She shrugged, _‘You would’ve done the same. Except for my exit. That was pretty amazing’_

 _‘I gotta concede you that, Feyre Darling. But you had a great teacher.’_. She could see his annoying smirk, felt that it was plastered on his soft lips.

Her own parted in a genuine smile, such a contrast between her previous mask, quickly discarded. _‘The best when it comes to being dramatic.’_

_‘You wound me so, my beloved!’_

Both sides of the bond remained silent, each other content of their mate’s presence in their minds.

 _‘When are you coming back home?’_ she asked eventually.

 _‘Tonight. We’ve been apart for too long.’_ She felt the hunger in his voice, the longing.

_‘Good.’_

But it wouldn’t do to end all the fun so suddenly, and so she added : _‘Because if you don’t then I might have to ask Azriel to stay in my mind a little bit longer.’_

Her laugh resonated all the way to the center of the mountain as her mate’s territorial growl filled her head, before feeling him open his wings and fly high in the sky, towards her as quickly as he could.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Don't forget to comment down below, especially if you want more   
> or send prompts to my Tumblr if you want  
> anyway, a couple of notes, we have a john mulaney quote and a little nod to tog  
> hope you enjoyed it  
> thanks again  
> till next time  
> jo


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